It was February, 1996. A coke-filled, overweight 13-year-old me was reading about CES in issue 148 of CVG and salivating over the ultra-positive review of Sonic 3. CVG gave out some high scores, but a 94 was pretty exciting for a SEGA boy like me. What a life I’d have as a games journalist, I thought to myself. Not high on drugs, just full of the hope only a child can possess. I would make this dream a reality and live like a king, never having to buy a video game again.
And then, screaming out of the tinny speaker in my Philips radio alarm clock, came a song that was, unknown to me at the time, foretelling my future. Ironic, by Alanis Morissette.
A traffic jam when you’re already late
A “No Smoking” sign on your cigarette break
It’s like ten thousand spoons when all you need is a knife
It’s being a games journo yeah, and then turning on them in a radio show
And isn’t it ironic, don’t you think?
A little too ironic, and yeah I really do think
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